Jane Babysits Bass
by Khiori
Summary: When Maura goes out of town, Jane watches Bass. Uh, oh.


Jane couldn't tell if this was insane or just outright silly.

The Boston detective lay barefoot on her belly in her old blue jeans and worn grey Life is Good t-shirt on the not so clean linoleum of her kitchen floor. Her black wild Italian tangle of curls covered most of her face in spite of her repeated efforts to shove them aside and she stared through them a little crazy eyed in sheer frustration.

"I can't believe I suck at babysitting a _turtle_."

The plate of his usual salad stuff lay untouched, now beginning to wilt in the summer heat of the city. His water in the low sided dish beside it was getting tepid and had some dust bits floating around the top.

Beyond them, tucked tightly in his huge old shell where he'd been practically since he'd arrived, was Bass.

Jane groaned. "Come on, buddy, you gotta eat something or Maura's going to _kill_ me." She gave the African spurred tortoise huge pleading Rizzoli puppy eyes. "You don't want Maura to kill me, do you?"

Bass didn't move.

"Well, crap. Is this about the Coke? Because you can't seriously actually be holding that against me, can you? It was an _accident_."

Dark liquid eyes stared at her from the protective safety of the shell.

"Okay, fine, I admit it, it was _mostly_ an accident. But how was I to know Jo Friday liked Coke?"

Bass pulled even further in.

"Look, how about I just give you the good parts?" Jane picked through the pile of wilting greens looking for the pretty bits of orange, yellow or pink. She found a bright yellow dandelion head, gave a little victory noise, and held it out to Bass. "Ooh, look what I found! It's a yummy flower, all juicy and stuff. I bet you'd like it to try it."

He wasn't having it.

Jane wanted to bang her head on the floor.

Repeatedly.

Hard.

Maura's symposium thingy wouldn't be over for five more days.

 _Which should I do first-update my Will or schedule the funeral home?_

Choices, choices.

Her phone went off in her back pocket and Jane grabbed for it.

And winced.

Maura.

" _Hey_ , Maura, how's it going?" Jane said with as much cheer as she could manage convincingly.

"Oh, it is _wonderful_ , Jane! There was an _entire_ evening lecture scheduled on the thermodynamic acceleration of decay in-"

Jane put the dandelion back on the plate. She leaned forward and poked the heavy shell indignantly. "And you're refusing to eat with _me?_ " she hissed. " _Really?_ "

"-And _then_ there was a chronological putrefaction lab highlighting the seven stages of death-"

Jane blinked, completely distracted from poking. "Wait, did she say _seven?_ Even Zombies only get two. What the hell?"

"-Tomorrow there is a skeletal maceration-"

"Macer-Holy teething biscuits, Bassman, isn't that the fancy word for _chewing?_ "

"-then there is an promisingly fascinating etymology and lexicology group discussion on Historical and Modern Societal Death Linguistic Avoidance Tactics-"

Jane snorted incredulously at Bass. "Trust me; there are _no_ words in _any_ language that can get Maura to stop talking about death."

The phone went completely silent.

Jane flinched, realizing she'd said that too loud and, worse, it had just been taken the wrong way. She thumped her head a few times against the linoleum. "Today just totally sucks. Look, I know the 'Queen of the Dead' just can't _help_ geeking out over the whole crossing the River Styx thing. It's actually gothically adorable. I really, _really_ , didn't mean that in a bad way, Maura, I swear."

"It's alright, Jane," Maura said softly, "I know I'm not the best 'normal' conversationalist."

Jane sighed soulfully into her floor. "If I wanted _normal_ I wouldn't be a damn detective. Or talk to my family."

A faint chuckle came through the line. "That is true."

The two women were awkwardly silent for a bit.

"Can we be good now?" Jane asked wistfully.

"I'm holding out for chocolate."

Jane began to smile. "I can't afford your kind of chocolate. How about I have Ma make us pasta?"

"That tortellini one from your grandmother?"

"Extra cheese."

"Deal."

"Now, finish telling me about your itinerary."

"Since when is 'itinerary' a Jane word?"

"Since some smartass gave me a dictionary, remember?"

"I admit, I honestly didn't think you would actually use it."

"Ha! Shows how smart you are, Dr. Isles-you didn't know there were _pictures_ inside, did you?"

Maura laughed. "I've missed you, Jane."

"Well, I _am_ fabulously awesome."

"And so _humble_."

"The _humblest_."

"You don't really have to listen to my schedule, Jane."

"Go ahead and putrefy me."

"Jane!"

"Then at least tell me what you're doing for fun out there. Hmm. Meet any cute guys?"

"Jane! This is an educational opportunity, not a recreational-"

"Maura, you're smart, rich, and gorgeous. And surrounded by-" Jane's normal rasp dropped into a snooty Boston elite mockery, "-the intellectual cream of society." Her voice went back to normal. "So, really, if they're too _dumb_ to figure out the _obvious_ , you need to pack your bags and get back here because it doesn't look good for your symposium thingy."

Maura laughed and it was obvious even through the phone that she was blushing. "Alright, I admit, I have been asked out for drinks quite a bit since I arrived."

" _And?_ "

"They're not quite what I'm looking for."

"So, not cute?"

"Let's just say they have failed to capture either my cognitive or physiological interest."

" _Woah._ "

"Pretty much."

"That doesn't bode well for humanity's genetics. So what have you been doing for fun to avoid them?"

"Well, there's a luxury spa here that is simply _absolutely_ refreshing."

"So are baby wipes, Maura. _Fun_."

"I went to a magnificent concert."

"Did it involve earplugs?"

"Jane, a concert is for _listening_."

"It's almost sad that you think that." Jane sighed. "What else?"

"There was a museum tour-"

"I'm seriously going to have to fly out there and rescue you, aren't I?"

"Don't you _dare!_ " Maura laughed. "You're supposed to be watching Bass!"

Jane absolutely cringed and crossed her fingers.

"Speaking of Bass, how is he doing?"

Jane glared down at her fingers. " _Traitors_."

"Jane?" Maura's tone started getting worried. "Has something happened? Do I need to come back and-"

"No, Maura! It's _nothing_. I totally got this. _Totally_."

" _Jane Clementine Rizzoli!_ "

Jane flinched and instinctively ducked. "Triple named, oh crap."

"I'll remind you of two pertinent facts before we go further in this conversation! One, my Intelligence Quotient is _exceptional_ and two, I _know_ you. _What's happened to my baby?_ "

Jane stared up at the ceiling. " _Really?_ You couldn't have helped me out a little there?"

" _Jane!_ "

Jane decided to just bite the bullet. She sighed. "He hasn't eaten since you left."

" _What?_ I've been gone for _four days!_ "

"Trust me, I've _noticed_."

"Did you turn his lamp on? Tortoises have to maintain a specific minimum level of internal temperature in order to be able to properly digest. If they become too cool they will stop eating and-"

"Thanks _Discovery Channel_. You told me that like seventeen times before you left _and_ you highlighted it in bright yellow on that list you posted all over my apartment. And for the record, I actually _know_ how to operate a lamp, Maura. It involves thumbs."

"Then have you actually been giving him the organic hay and grasses I brought over, or just his salad mixes?"

"Maura, I'm giving everything to the _exact_ gram as noted in your rather OC meal plan regiment. He's just not eating any of it. And, _of course_ , I'm giving him the stuff, what would _I_ be doing with the hay and grasses, _juicing?_ "

"Have you been sneaking him anything _not_ on the list?"

Jane huffed, irritated. "Sure, we had Meat Lover's Pizza and beer last night. Fruit Loops and chocolate milk this morning. _Maura!_ "

"Is he excreting?"

"Well, he was until he ran out."

"Ran out _where?_ Jane! You didn't leave him unsupervised outside, did you?"

"Oh, for the love-I'm talking about his _guts_ , Maura! I may not have a medical degree or twelve but I'm pretty sure if you don't put stuff _in_ you don't get stuff back _out_."

"Maybe he's caught a virus from your apartment."

" _Hey!_ We just cleaned it!"

"Jane, go through his emergency contact lists and set an immediate appointment with his primary care provider."

Jane closed her eyes tightly and tried to count backwards. This is why she had always hated babysitting.

"Jane? _Jane!_ What's happening?"

Jane groaned and opened her eyes.

And then _blinked_.

Bass had poked his head out of his shell and was now stretching his neck as far as he could, his liquid tortoise eyes focused intensely on-

Jane tracked his line of sight.

Her phone.

Suddenly, Jane collapsed forward onto the linoleum laughing.

"Jane? Jane, what's going on?"

"Maura! There's nothing _wrong_ with your turtle!"

" _Tortoise_. And what do you mean there's nothing _wrong?_ He's not _eating!_ "

"Yeah, because he's _sad_. Maura, Bass isn't eating because something's _wrong_ with him. He's not eating because he's _missing_ you!"

There was surprised silence on the line for a moment.

"That's . . . that's so sweet. Oh, my poor _baby!_ I'll book the fastest flight I can-"

Jane snickered.

" _Jane_ , do not mock me!"

"You're like Ma was with-" Jane sat straight up. "That's it! You _are_ a mommy!" A grin suddenly broke out across her face and she looked down at her phone. "And I think I know how you can stay and finish your symposium thingy!"

"Wait, _what?_ How?"

"I'm going to put you on speaker phone so he can hear you better. Now find something you can read out loud."

"I'm not understanding you, Jane."

"Huh, usually that's the other way around. Find anything?"

"I . . . I have my notes from the lab!"

"Wait. The nasty one?"

"Jane! Putrefaction is an entirely natural-"

"You're like the secret love child of Tim Burton and Morticia Addams, you know that, right?"

" _Jane!_ "

"Don't worry, Bass loves you anyway. Now start reading into your phone."

"I still don't see _why_ I'm doing this. It's not as if he can understand the difference between pallor mortis and algor mortis."

"I don't know how to break this to you, Maura, but that actually puts him in the same boat as the rest of humanity. And it's not really about _what_ you're saying, anyway. It's that _you're_ saying it. Everyone misses the people they love, Maura. Sometimes all they really want is just to hear their voice; they don't really give a damn about the rest. Turtles, too."

"Tortoises." Maura was quiet a few moments. "I understand."

The Boston detective lay barefoot on her belly in her old blue jeans and worn grey Life is Good t-shirt on the not so clean linoleum of her kitchen floor. Her black wild Italian tangle of curls covered most of her face and yet she made no effort to shove it aside as she smiled through them with triumphant amused eyes.

Watching Bass munch happily on his salad.

While Maura's soft voice floated through the air about them, detailing human decomposition in the seven stages of death.

And none of them found it insane or even silly.

Maybe she didn't suck at babysitting a turtle after all.


End file.
